


With a gun and a rope and a hat full of hope

by hoziertozier



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Blow Jobs, Cowboy Kink, Cowboy Roleplay, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Sexual Roleplay, anticipation kink, ass eating, literally just porn, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25928806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoziertozier/pseuds/hoziertozier
Summary: It was generally unclear as to whose fault this was. On one hand, Richie was a fucking menace. On the other, he wouldn’t be able to *be* a menace if Eddie didn’t give him anything to menace him about.***Richie and Eddie discover that Eddie has a rather interesting kink. They fuck.:party popper emoji:
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 166





	With a gun and a rope and a hat full of hope

Eddie sat on his and Richie’s bed and adjusted his collar. It was tight, buttoned all the way up and starch-stiff. He’d ironed it himself, wanted it to be just so for tonight. This stupid night. Why the fuck was he sitting on his bed in suspenders and slacks and a fucking plain white apron? He felt like some kind of creep. Like the kind of guys that go to Civil War reenactments and take it way too seriously. He nervously pulled at the dumb bands on his arms (garters, the things on his arms were called garters and were used by bartenders in the Old West to make their shirts fit because shirts shipped out west from the big cities were all the same size and had wide sleeves and they used the bands to make them fit and also they looked festive and-).

He hated how much research he’d put into this.

It was generally unclear as to whose fault this was. On one hand, Richie was a fucking menace. On the other, he wouldn’t be able to *be* a menace if Eddie didn’t give him anything to menace him about. 

***

Really, it was Bill’s fault. It was his bright idea to get Eddie the complete _Bonanza_ boxset for his birthday that year. Eddie had been genuinely touched by the gift; he had fond memories of laying in front of the TV with Bill for hours on end when they were just little kids, watching the Cartwright brothers ride around on their horses and shoot guns and poke fun at each other. The fact that Bill remembered it, went to the trouble of finding the box set of some shitty show that first aired in the 60’s and then made its home on the TCM channel...well, it just meant a lot to Eddie.

That’s what found him and Richie curled up on the couch together a few weeks later in December, with Richie finally giving in and agreeing to watch “Eddie’s cowboy porn,” as he’d lovingly taken to calling it. 

Yeah, so what, Eddie had a soft spot for westerns. Sue him. He was cooped up in the house a lot as a kid and his mom liked those black and white drama shitshows, and after a few hours of watching those she’d fall asleep, and then it would just be Eddie and the cowboys. They were the men in his house, the ideal male form that Eddie looked up to and longed for. They taught him bravery and stubbornness and yes, okay, he was a little gay kid and they were very frequently wrestling and shirtless. He was a big enough man to admit that he would watch _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_ and then go up to his room, and imagine Paul Newman was riding a bike and doing funny tricks for _him_ , outside _his_ window. But no, the only blue eyed idiot trying to make him laugh around here was Richie.

That hadn’t turned out to be so bad, though.

So they sat down with some hot cocoa Maggie-Style (“a little bit of peppermint and a whole lotta schnapps”) and put on some good old-fashioned cowboys for the evening, and Eddie felt completely at peace. He was being warmed by the cocoa, warmed by the schnapps, warmed by the man at his side, warmed by the sight of Michael Landon smiling on his flat screen as Little Joe…

Perhaps a little too warm.

See, Eddie remembered that Little Joe was his favorite. He was the youngest brother, a ladies man, goofy and pretty and had soft curly hair that looked like it would be fun to touch....and maybe he got shot a lot in the show and ended up having his clothes cut off of him to expose his chest or leg so the doctor could take care of it. Of course he did, it was the Wild West, it was a land of outlaws and cowboys and gunfights and god, it was kind of hot, looking at it again now. Little Joe- Michael Landon -had a broad, tan chest, smooth and shiny on the camera. His face was always a little covered in dirt and dust from riding, hair always a little bit sweaty from being under his hat for so long, and Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about how it just, well, it looked _really good_.

“Dude, are you serious right now?” Eddie whipped his head from the screen to Richie.

“Wuh?”

“You’re fucking with me, please tell me you’re fucking with me.” 

“What are you fucking-” Eddie followed Richie’s line of sight and stopped himself short.

He was _very_ obviously hard.

Eddie snapped his mouth shut and felt his face go from the pleasant warmth of alcohol and cocoa and Richie to the warmth of getting his face shoved into a radiator.

There was a beat of silence where they each waited for the other to say something, and then there wasn’t.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me-” “Don’t you fucking dare-”

“-you’re hard?! You’re hard over that?!-” “-don’t you fucking judge me for the weird-”

“-cowboys! Fucking cowboys! You want me to go out and buy a stetson to wear to bed, babe? Go fucking ‘yeehaw’ next time I’m plowin’ you down?-” 

“*No*, you ginormous asshole, don’t- just fucking drop-”

“-bet I could rustle up some assless chaps for ya, baby, how about that?” And Eddie’s next round of denial was stopped short because, well, how about that? How about Richie in a pair of assless chaps- simple, black, leather -shoved up against a wall, his ass perfectly framed and making Eddie’s mouth water...

Eddie felt his dick, his traitorous cock, twitch in his sweatpants, and he didn’t need to look at Richie’s face to know his smile had just taken on a Joker-esque sense of plotting.

***

And that's how now, one week later, one week to obtain costume parts and struggle through scene plotting and negotiations and the flaming hot garbage of a situation that was Richie Tozier having one up on him; one week later, Eddie was sitting on his bed, dressed like a bartender in an old western saloon, waiting for his boyfriend to finish getting changed in the guest room and walk in so they could pretend to be in a fucking cowboy movie and have sex.

Eddie massaged his temples slowly. Most likely scenario, Richie was about to walk in here looking like the Naked Cowboy from Times Square, tighty-whities and all. He’d have a good laugh and somehow coax Eddie into laughing too, and they’d take all this stuff off and just fuck. And that would be great. Eddie wasn’t keyed up, he wasn’t anticipating this, it was just pure dread. It wasn’t like his daydreams at work the past week had frequently featured Richie leaning on a bar, grinning at him from under the shade of a wide-brimmed at. This was all just highly embarrassing, and Eddie would be glad to have it all over with.

The sound of the door down the hall closing pulled him from the migraine that he was definitely developing. He could hear the clicking of Richie’s boots on the hardwood, accompanied by the jingling of what were probably most definitely metal spurs. The asshole had gotten spurs. Eddie felt his stomach churn with each step, each clack and clink and jingle sending shivers up his arms and down his spine. Finally, they stopped outside their bedroom door. Eddie shot up to his feet as the door slowly creaked open and went to stand at the dresser that he’d set up to look like a make-shift bar.

Eddie busied himself with moving bottles around, using the damp washcloth to wipe the counter underneath them like it was actually sticky, like it would actually do anything except soothe his nerves. Anything to avoid looking up at Richie. 

“Y’all still open tonight?” It was a Voice, for sure, but not a familiar one. It was deep, a little husky with a molasses drawl. It made Eddie’s insides twist into a fucking knot.

“J-Just closing up, actually. Bit late for a nightcap, don’tcha think?” Step and jangle, step and jangle, step and jangle. Eddie gripped the whiskey bottle so tight he thought he might break it. He didn’t want to look up. God, he wanted to, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Call him a contrarian ass, but he knew that once he looked at Richie the jig would be up, and he couldn’t give him that satisfaction yet. But shit, he was getting close. 

“Naw, I’ been on the road quite some time now. Sore as shit from that damn saddle. I’m only askin’ for small drink, maybe a bed if ya got room.”

“That right?” Eddie grabbed a cup as steadily as he could, keeping his eyes down and focused on cleaning it- *pretending* to clean it -instead of letting them stray over to Richie. He could smell him now, wearing that fucking cologne he knew Eddie went crazy for. It was some kind of musky, aqua-fresh bullshit witchcraft Bev had picked out and Eddie cursed her name every time he smelled it. “Where you comin’ up from?”

“San Jose, got a package to deliver.” Eddie snorted slightly at that. Classic, fucking classic, but it made him feel a little less tense. This was supposed to be fun. Chill out, Eds. Have fun with it. A small smile slipped onto his face.

“Oh yeah? ‘S it a big package?” He felt a huff of hot air on his neck. Fuck, when had Richie gotten that close? 

“Not so big that I couldn’t handle, but fair. Horse did most of the work, ‘course.” Eddie watched as a dark green-sleeved arm leaned on the dresser top, black leather gloved fingers dragging and tapping at the wood. His heart stopped cold. 

He kept his eyes low as he turned around. He caught sight of the dark brown cowboy boots, and followed up the worn and dirty denim jeans to a thick black belt and wide, shiny silver buckle. Eddie had expected Richie to pick some kind of novelty buckle, like one with a rooster on it that said ‘COCK’ or ‘BAMF’ in bold, stupid lettering. This buckle was beautiful, though. Swirly and intricately carved, with sunflowers carved into the top corners. His eyes trailed up the olive blouse, not quite fancy enough to be called a dress shirt, just simple and smooth. A brown bandanna was tied loosely around his neck, and Eddie wanted to lick under it. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop himself, and looked up at Richie’s face, and his heart fucking stuttered.

Richie hadn’t shaved that morning. His smirk was encased by a prickly, mostly-pepper and partially-salt beard. The upper half of his face was shaded by a dark brown cowboy hat, making his eyes look dark and heavy and like they weighed a thousand pounds and all of it was being piled onto Eddie’s soul. Eddie’s mouth parted in a quiet gasp.

“...’Course.” He breathed out. Richie fully grinned now. Eddie knew he was done for, he was fucking brainless. They’d be lucky if they got full sentences out of him at this point.

“‘Xactly. So, how’s about that bed? I’m mighty tired now.”

“I, uh, I’m sorry, but I think they’re all taken up right now. You’ll have to try somewhere else.”

“That so? They’re all full?”

“Yes sir.” Richie leaned towards him, bracketing Eddie between his arms, his back against the dresser, eye to eye.

“Even yours?” 

Eddie let out a shaky breath. 

“Just by me.” 

Richie leaned in closer, bumped his nose against Eddie’s. Their lips were so close, so fucking close.

“How’s about you make some room, then?” Eddie’s quick little nods were but a formality as Richie closed the last of the distance and kissed him hard. Eddie gasped into it, dropping the washcloth that was still in his shaking hands and gripping Richie’s shirt tightly. Richie palmed his head roughly, pulling him closer, as if their lips could just mold together. He stepped closer to Eddie, pressing the edge of the dresser into the middle of his back. There was nowhere he could go, and Eddie fucking loved it.

Richie dragged his lips from Eddie’s and across his cheek, down to nip and lick at his throat. The scratch of his beard stung in the best way and Eddie drew a sharp breath. Richie gripped his hips, tight, hard, and suddenly that breath was ripped out of Eddie again as Richie pulled back and flipped him around. Eddie braced his forearms on the dresser top, half a mind careful to not knock over any glasses of bottles. Fuck, props were dangerous. But so were Richie’s hands, as they slid quick to undo his apron and then his belt and slacks. Eddie knew he was hard, god he knew he was hard already, but if he wasn’t sure before he was now as Richie dragged his pants down to his ankles.

The leather gloves were somehow smooth and rough at the same time, cold and warm. They slid and caught on Eddie’s skin as Richie pulled his pants down, sticking to the sweat that was starting to build. Richie dragged his gloved hands back up Eddie’s calves, his thighs, till they palmed his ass through his briefs. Richie pressed his face close to Eddie’s ass and inhaled before giving him a good squeeze, then he was tearing the briefs down, too. The gloves- Richie’s hands -were bare leather on his ass now, squeezing and spreading his cheeks apart so Richie could dive in. He licked a stripe up his asshole, and Eddie felt his whole body convulse. Richie lapped at his hole, long wet licks that made Eddie whimper and grip the edges of the dresser. He gasped as he felt Richie’s tongue poke into his hole, small teasing darts inside, just sneak peaks at what Eddie wanted. He rolled his hips back onto Richie’s face, and felt him chuckle into his ass.

_Thwack._

The sting of the leather against his skin was sharp, and Eddie gasped again. It wasn’t common that either of them smacked the other, call them sentimental but hurting each other wasn’t exactly the biggest turn on, but the feeling of the leather glove striking his ass was something else. He got the message loud and clear: don’t fucking move. Let Richie do his thing.

Richie continued to dip his tongue into his ass, further and deeper each time, and curling his tongue up with each lick out. Eddie moaned and his hips stuttered, trying so hard to keep them still, not wanting Richie to stop but at the same time wanting to chase for more. Richie plunged his tongue in even deeper this time, and gave a long, wet suck that had Eddie’s knees shaking. Eddie’s moan was pitiful, and promptly interrupted by Richie standing up and flipping him around again.

Eddie gripped Richie’s broad shoulders for some sense of grounding as Richie grabbed him by the back of his neck and licked into his mouth. Eddie faintly registered that Richie was kissing him right after having his tongue in his ass, but honestly the part of him that gave a fuck was long gone. All that was left was Horny Eddie, and he was currently more focused on ripping the buttons off of Richie’s nice green shirt. 

No buttons popped, but between the two of them quick work was made of Richie’s shirt and Eddie’s shirt and apron. Eddie pushed Richie backwards towards the bed, shuffling out of his shoes and pants as they went, hands on Richie’s chest to balance himself. Richie’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he sat with a rough bounce. Eddie fell to his knees in front of him, in between his legs. God, Richie looked good like this. No shirt, just his broad, hairy chest and soft gut, his treasure trail leading right down to the shiny buckle on his belt. Richie looked down at him with wide-blown pupils, eyes still darkened by the cowboy hat atop his head. Eddie felt a bit of pre-cum drool down his cock.

“Can I-?”

“Yeah.” Richie’s voice was breathy and low, and one word was all Eddie needed to hastily undo Richie’s belt and jeans and tug them and his boxers down. Richie’s erection was flushed and hard, but not rock hard. Not quite hard enough to break diamonds yet, which Eddie thought was a goddamn shame. He dove in and slid his mouth down Richie’s cock, moaning at the pleasant weight in his mouth. Richie groaned and gripped a hand into Eddie’s hair. He didn’t push or pull, just gave a slight tug that said “yes, fuck, that, do that again, please Eds, I love you, I love you, I love you...”

Eddie drew back so just the head was in his mouth, and licked around it, sloppy, like the world’s most obscene lollipop. Once Eddie felt the spit slipping past his lips and down Richie’s shaft, he gave a hard suck on the head. Richie groaned again, louder, and his grip tightened in Eddie’s hair. Eddie eased on the suction, sliding down Richie’s dick a little, and then back up, then a little further down, and then back up, until his cock was spit-slick and Eddie was bobbing smoothly up and down. He relaxed his mouth and laved his tongue all around Richie’s cock as he went down, and sucked and pressed his tongue against the vein on the underside as he went back up, and all the while the sounds of Richie’s moans and whispers of “Oh god, oh fuck, Eddie, Eds, Eds,” accompanied the wet suction of Eddie’s mouth like the dirtiest symphony. Eddie felt so fucking alive.

There was a rougher tug on his hair.

“Eds, Eds you gotta stop, stop stop stop, I wanna fuck you, c’mon, get up.” Eddie popped off of Richie’s dick. A strand of saliva connected the tip of it to Eddie’s lower lip, and it made him dizzy to look at it. He didn’t have long to admire, though, as Richie was pulling him up with a grip on his shoulder and cradling his head. Eddie’s hands flew up and wove themselves into Richie’s hair, knocking the hat off to the side somewhere. He gave a sharp tug, the way he knew Richie liked, and felt Richie’s fingers dig hard into his back. They kissed in the haziest form of the word. It was sloppy and hot, all heavy breathing and imprecise bites and nibbles at earth others lips. He climbed onto the bed and straddled Richie, whose hands immediately migrated to his ass now that it was within groping distance. They ground their hips together, both worked up and rash, wanting more, more, more from each other. Richie slid a finger past Eddie’s rim, which drew a sharp intake from him.

“Lube, lube, fucking lube, on the pillow, condom next to it, grab it-”

“Okay okay okay okay-”

Richie groped around blindly, not wanting to turn his head away from Eddie, until he felt the small bottle in his hand. He clicked it open and squeezed an unknown amount on his hand behind Eddie’s back. He felt some of it dripping off his fingers as he coated them. That was probably enough, then. He used his clean hand to pull Eddie in for another kiss right as he pushed his first finger past Eddie’s rim, and he inhaled the moan that it drew out of him. It didn’t take Richie long to loosen him up, as long as he kept kissing him. The combination of sucking on Eddie’s tongue and rubbing his thumb against his adam's apple made Eddie melt into it every time, keeping him relaxed enough that soon enough he was grinding down on three of Richie’s fingers. Eddie whined as Richie pulled back from his mouth. 

“You good?”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie nodded. Richie gave a quick nod in return.

“Great.” He pulled his fingers out of Eddie and tossed him to the side onto the bed. Eddie gave an _oof_ , scrambling to lean up on his arms and get his legs fully onto the bed. It was pretty much useless, though, as Richie stood up and flipped him over again. Eddie’s face pressed into the bed and it felt like the wind was almost knocked out of him. Richie helped him onto his forearms and knees, and leaned against him chest-to-back to grab the condom still resting on the pillow by Eddie’s head. It slipped in his lubed up hand a bit, and Eddie took a moment to catch his breath as Richie opened the condom and slid it on. He leaned over Eddie again and kissed him in the center of his back, right on his spine.

“All set?” He mumbled into his skin. Eddie shivered.

“Yeah.” He whispered.

“Yippee-ki-yay.” Richie gave one last smiling kiss to Eddie’s back before leaning back up. He took himself in hand and slowly started to press his cock into Eddie. The grip on his hip tightened as Richie slid in, and Eddie’s arms shook. With Richie fully sheathed, Eddie felt so fucking full. He could feel every press of Richie’s dick inside of him, every little nudge and twitch causing his nerves to light up and scream. He wanted to scream, too. Fuck, he wanted to scream.

“Make me scream,” He croaked out. Richie grinned.

“Aye-aye, cap’n.”

The first withdrawal and thrust was enough to make Eddie whine. Richie snapped his hips forward, hard and deep and searching. He had one hand on Eddie’s hip, the other on the curve of his shoulder and throat, and Eddie was doing his damnedest to roll his ass back to meet him. It was only when his arms gave out, pressing his face into the mattress and changing the angle Richie was driving into him, that it really started to hit. Eddie cried out, muffled slightly by the mattress.

“What was that?” Richie called out, pistoning his hips forward. His breath was heaving; his legs felt like unstoppable jelly. Eddie felt so fucking good around him, so tight and wet. He bent over Eddie, bracing against him, thigh to sweaty thigh. He uncurled Eddie’s fists and wove his fingers in with his own, and heard Eddie sob. Richie fucked into him harder, licking the sweat up Eddie’s neck. Eddie cried out, again and again, overwhelmed by the feeling of being completely surrounded by Richie, inside and out. He felt like he was coming apart except he couldn’t because Richie was right there on top of him, keeping him together all at the same time. 

“C’mon, baby.” Richie breathed, mouthing at Eddie’s neck and bearing down harder and harder. Eddie let out a single cry that didn’t stop, just kept growing louder and louder with each thrust of Richie’s hips, each lick and bite on his throat, louder and louder until it was a genuine fucking scream and Eddie’s entire body was shaking as he came onto the bed, untouched. The sound of his orgasm and the clench of his ass around his cock was almost suffocating to Richie, pushing him over the edge not long after. 

Richie collapsed on top of Eddie, squishing him into the bed. Eddie groaned underneath him and said something muffled into the blankets.

“Huh?” Richie said. Eddie turned his face to the side.

“I said, get the fuck offa me.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Richie shakily pulled out of Eddie before flopping onto his back next to him. Both men were silent except for deep, measured breathing. After about a minute, Richie knocked his knuckles against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Hey.” Richie said. No response. He tapped twice more.

“Hey.” Richie said. Eddie groaned in response, face once again pressed into the blankets, though now pillowed by his arms.

“So, was that, like, fucking awesome, or what?” Eddie groaned again.

“That’s not an answer. Use your words.” Eddie turned his head slightly.

“I can’t. You fucked them out of me.”

“No words?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Zero.”

“Not even one word of feedback?” This time when Eddie groaned, it was very obviously out of frustration rather than exhaustion. He pushed himself up a bit, looking around and taking in his surroundings before reaching out for something near the head of the bed. 

“Yeah, I’ve got your fucking feedback for you.” Eddie groused. Richie’s eyebrows went up.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Richie turned on his side to look at Eddie, just as Eddie was settling the cowboy hat onto his own head. Eddie looked him dead in the eyes.

“Yeehaw.” There was a beat of speechlessness before Eddie couldn’t fight back his smile anymore, and Richie cracked up, rolling onto his back with laughter as Eddie burst into giggles. 

“Yeehaw!” Richie rasped. “Yee-fucking-haw!”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> everyone say "Thank you, Little Joe!" for making Eddie pop a stiffy during movie night!  
> title of the fic is pulled directly from the Bonanza theme song
> 
> shout out to the shark puppy discord server for being my betas and also gassing me up to write this! it's my first attempt at writing porn and i gotta say fellas, i think i did a pretty good job


End file.
